06-30-2008, 10:21 PM
A cold wind blew across the sand, causing Miw-sher to shiver and glance up for the first time in hours. It was the first time she had traveled so far and come so close to the mountains her hunters generally avoided. She had learned not to glance up and try to gauge the distance by the mountains, as they seemed always to be looming over head but never really seeming to come any closer. Setting her jaw she upped the pace and began to run in long easy lopes that ate the miles away.
The cold breeze began to come more frequently the closer she got, and ill prepared to venture into colder territories, Miw-sher had to stop. Unpacking a thick blanket, she lit a fire and warmed up a small vial of liquid in a glass bowl, dropping small chunks of dried meat she had ripped from a larger stash, and finally cutting bits of root with a glitttering green glass blade. Content that Ashkii and her meal would soon be ready, she ducked under her covering and watched the flames dance around her kindling; desert brush glowing red hot and golden as the tongues of fire greedily ate up its fuel.
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